


Would you look at that. They stole an asteroid. How. How did that happen.

by I_Am_Not_A_Robot



Category: Robot Series - Isaac Asimov
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Humor, M/M, Probably ooc, These two deserve more love and respect, U.S. Robots, and robots stealing asteroids with possibly deadly bacteria?, asteroids - Freeform, sorta - Freeform, space, that's the point where you draw the line, they gotta draw the line in the sand at some point, they're both just tired, tired of all this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 05:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18653902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Not_A_Robot/pseuds/I_Am_Not_A_Robot
Summary: You've gotta draw a line somewhere.Or: in which Mike and Greg are just. They're just tired. Tired of all that stuff they gotta put up with in their awful job.





	Would you look at that. They stole an asteroid. How. How did that happen.

**Author's Note:**

> these two are my favorite characters and the whole time reading about them I couldn’t stop thinking:  
> they reaalllyy need a break lmao

    A stricken, perplexed look twisted Powell’s face, who stared out the window at the slowly retreating asteroid, which floated leisurely in the still blackness around them. A strangled sound escaped his throat, so that when he could finally talk, it came out in a stammering matter, “Look! Mike, it’s- it’s- look!”

    Donovan’s grey-green eyes looked up from the pile of tangled, sparking cords on the ground. “What, Greg?” he said irritably, a bit out of breath from his wrestle with the now dead robot. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the massive rock floating hundreds of yards away from them. Small bits of it were blowing up from the inside, silent in the vacuum of space. From this distance, it wasn’t hard to spot ten glinting silver bodies on the surface. “Well then,” he said dumbly, dropping a fistful of wires onto the ground. 

    Powell turned away from the window, bewildered and pointing at the asteroid. “Mike, I think they’re piloting it!” 

    It was true. A few robots were using carefully calculated blasts of air from an oxygen pack to slowly maneuver the asteroid away from the station, while a couple others efficiently set up equipment in tactical spots around the asteroid to make it move even better. 

    “You’re right…hey, HEY! That’s our asteroid!” Donovan yelled, running up next to Powell to stare out the window with his partner. 

    Powell nervously played with his mustache, and said, “They can’t hear you out there! We have to figure something out, and it better be quick! If we don’t get those bacteria samples, we’ll definitely be more than just fired.”

    “I know, I know, I’m thinking!” Donovan snapped, his eyes darting to the makeshift spacecraft in an anxious pondering. “Maybe if we get into the pod, we can go after them? One of use would have to go out there and maybe talk to them… Ah, damn, what could they possibly want with that asteroid? What are they even doing? Neither of us said anything about making off with the asteroid!”

    “Remember all the other robots we’ve had to deal with in our cursed careers? It’s almost not a surprise that these ones have developed a defiance to our words,” Powell said bitterly. He grinned mirthlessly and said sarcastically, “I’m almost looking forward to that early retirement.” 

    Donovan chuckled, the exact same amount of humor in his words. “Oh, yeah, it’ll be great. I bet by the time we do retire, robots will be legal on Earth and even in our old age we’ll have to deal with situations like this.” 

    “Shhh, you’ll jinx it! It might actually come true if you say stuff like that,” Powell said with a snicker, despite not being a believer in “jinxing” things. 

    “Yeah, I can just imagine us buying a home by a beach, and we’ll be relaxing one day when the goddamn vacuum cleaner turns murderous or something. Can you imagine that? Just the two of us, seventy years old and fighting off killer vacuums. I bet even when we’re retired, good ol’ U.S. Robots is gonna be sending us their new tech to try out.” 

    Sighing in mock wistfulness, Powell responded, “Sounds lovely. I’ll be sitting by the beach, your hand in mine, and there it’ll be in the distance. The damn vacuum. Probably vacuuming the beach as it makes its way towards us. Wonderful.” 

    Donovan wanted to continue this sarcastic conversation, but a part of him worried about losing his job. A part of him spoke quietly of his fear of poverty, of suddenly expensive housing and dinnerless nights wasted bent over a computer on a fruitless job search. “Greg, we can’t get too carried away right here. Those stupid pieces of scrap metal are getting away.”

    Powell stared out the window again, deep in thought. “What you said earlier might work. How do we know the robots won’t fight for their hold on the asteroid? Oh, wait, Rule #1. I’m being stupid. Remember how we solved all the other situations? Maybe we can solve this one similarly. If one of us is in danger, those robots will have to leave the asteroid to save us, and then the other can swoop in and secure it.” 

    “That’s a good idea, but I’ve got a feeling that this particular lot wouldn’t pay any attention to any fatal situation we might be in. I’m telling ya, they’re smart, and they’ve got their best interest in mind, not ours. And we still don’t know what they’ve got planned with that asteroid!”

    “Don’t be silly, Mike. Again, Rule #1: a robot cannot harm a human or let a human be harmed through inaction-”   
    “You don’t have to remind me! With all the many times you start spouting off your robotics facts, I could recite the whole Handbook in my sleep!” He mocked Greg’s voice, saying, “ _ Rule #1, robots can’t harm humans, Rule #2, robots gotta obey humans- _ ”

    “But it’s true! A robot with violent intentions could not possibly be built! Hell, let’s play along with this fantasy. If a robot whose sense of the first rule was damaged, and somehow made it out of the factory, what would it be doing here? I don’t know if you remember, but these are just SMT-1s with different materials, so they can withstand enormous amounts of pressure. We tested the first SMT-1- Sam, we called her, and all her programming was normal, so these new ones can’t have gone wrong.”   
    “What if they did? With the amount of things that go wrong, I’d think someone down there’s purposefully programming the weirdest imaginable things they can think up.  _ ‘Hmmm, wonder if I’ll send those two idiots a robot that can blast lasers out of its eyes, and then make it lose its mind whenever it’s around air conditioning!’  _ Remember  _ that _ robot, Greg? Do you?”   
    Powell got a faraway look in his eyes. “Yeah, Sparkle wasn’t the most fun to test.” He suddenly snapped his head up to the window, and yelled, “Holy smokes! They’re gone!”

    The speed at which Donovan turned to look out the window almost gave him whiplash. He cursed, and his fists balled up. “If they weren’t made of such tough material-”

    Powell couldn’t help the small laugh from escaping him. “As if your weak fists could fight metal.” 

    Turning a faint red, Donovan muttered, “I’ll show you who has weak fists!”

    Powell leaned over and placed a quick peck on his cheek, capturing his hands and relaxing the redhead. “You know what? Maybe we should just let them leave. The guys down at the company can’t seriously expect us to solve this one. I’m gonna go make tea and read. You can join me, if you like.”

    The best part about this all is that, really, both men knew they could solve this problem if they wanted. Hell, a solution already wormed its way into Donovan’s head. He just simply didn’t feel like solving anything anymore. 

    A sigh filled with the tiredness of twenty years of endless chaos left the redhead, who nodded. “You’re right. I’m comin’ with ya. I can’t take anymore of this.” He stepped over the robot he wrestled earlier and followed Powell to the small recreation room. Turning one last glance at the window, and the disappearing speck of stress, he left. 

It was about time to quit. Some other job would probably take either of them, and they’d live comfortable, normal lives on Earth. No more space travel. No more haywire robots.

    Cuddled up on the couch, Powell sipped his tea and Donovan drank his coffee in comfortable silence.“This is good. New.”

    “You mean the lack of anxiety and stress?”

    “Yeah,” Donovan said. 

    Powell chuckled and leaned into the other man. “You never fail to crack me up, Mike.” He paused a moment. “Is it too early to retire?”

    Donovan snorted. “Nah.” 


End file.
